


Musings of a Citrus

by Citrus_Bard



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:41:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Citrus_Bard/pseuds/Citrus_Bard
Summary: Varied micro-writings and drabbles from my notebook.





	1. It/Her

As I sat in my chair in the far corner of my room, I sleep. I dreamt. In my dreams, I’m trapped, alone, scared. I know that I’m fine on the outside, but on the inside, I’m paralyzed, nowhere to go but deeper into my mind, facing the fears I control with chains in the back of my brain. Silent. Unoticed. Though in It's silence It is terrible, like It knows it will have It's control over me soon As I sleep, as It paces in It's deep. The Pit. Black as a moonless night, the smell of brimstone and the smell of overwhelming coldness. Enveloped in dark, all but drowning. My throat is filling with sound, a it has become a liquid thing, terrifying me, crashing against beach of brightly coloured broken glass. The more I scream the bigger It becomes, feeding on my terror. With It's dark eyes lit with a white fire, the color of It's skin darker that I can see, the sound of water dripping from It. It looms above me. I’m falling now, but falling upwards, up towards a light, so far away. My terror fades slowly, with every centimeter I come closer to the edge. As I come ever nearer to the top, I feel feathers bursting from in between my shoulders. The wings I created to save me from It, the ones of starlight to battle the blackness of It. It tries to grab me, to drag me back down with It, so it It can feed on my fear once again, making It ever more powerful. But It is mine, formed from all of my fear, my terror. It looks like my father, my brother, my mother. It is always changing, as It always has. But It’s eyes never morph like It’s body. It’s eyes stay as the truly are, darker than black. The fire burning brighter than the sun, always the same bright white. I know It isn’t real. It isn’t any sort of physical being, that It can’t truely hurt me. But that doesn’t matter in my dreams. That doesn’t matter to It either. I finally reach the top, and look down. It is trying to crawl out of It’s black pit, scrabling and clawing at the glass-smooth walls. It knows the attempt is futile. On better nights I’ve been able to push back my fear of It, been able to sit and talk to It. These are the Strange Nights. The Strange Nights are few, and far between. There are some Strange Nights, even farther, that It speaks to me. It has dark voice, like great boulders grinding against one another, smooth and hoarse and growling, all at once. Confusing. It speaks of what It is, what It once was, what It wants to be. On those nights, the Strange Nights, I feel an odd sort of kinship with It. The feeling of an old friend that surrounds It of the Strange Nights. Those nights It becomes something else. Forms It’s own self. The form is a girl, with the looks of my age. It has aged with me. With the time The Change comes. Strange Nights come more often now. It is no longer an It. It has become Her. She tells me she has always been Her. The Change had to come to me.


	2. Aphrodite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodite Microwriting

In a moment, she was beautiful. Loud and quiet, happy with melancholy tones, coloured with tones of gray and life, of earth and the wonder of the universe. Her eyes danced with the mirth and sorrows of thousands of years, with the lives of millions, with their love and heartbreak, grief and joy as she turned to me, and I took a second to realize who I was looking at. This, was the Lady Aphrodite. Her beauty was indescribable, shifting and changing, as fluid as the ocean she was born of.


	3. Hera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera Microwriting

Regal, graceful, elegant. The woman was beautiful, a golden crown resting upon her head, and a maternal smile adorned her face. Her cocoa skin was complemented with vibrant blue-green eyes, shining with joy and love as she looked upon you. You froze, you know that this woman was one scorned many times by her husband. The King was unfaithful, a horrifying thing to be, as the husband of the goddess of Marriage, and Family. Yet here this woman was smiling upon you as if you were the most wonderful thing. You scramble to kneel, and she laughs, and in a powerful voice, Lady Hera calls to you, a laugh coloring her tone joyfully, “No, my childe. You needn’t be frightened. Rise, and come forth.”


	4. Zeus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus Microwriting

As angry as a dark, storming sky, the man struck an imposing figure, his black hair peppered with white and gray hairs that lent him a distinguished, yet fatherly appearance. Minuscule lines of crackling electricity jumped from hair to hair on his head and face, the only signals of his failing control. He straightened himself, and in a quiet voice, he commanded the room. 

“I am Zeus, King of the Greek Gods, Lord of the Sky! I am the Cloud-Gatherer! The Rain-Bringer,and you will listen to me!”


	5. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dont really know what this one is, but its like two years old so please excuse the formatting and the probable grammar mistakes :/

You don’t exactly know where you are. You also don’t exactly know who you are, or who your family is. “Wait,” a muffled sound reached your ears through the foggy feeling. It sounded scratchy. It seemed to come from you, along with a dull feeling of electricity racing through you. Quite painfully, might you add. What was it, and what was a family? You don’t really know. An image of dark, blurry shapes is brought to the forefront of your half-woken mind. There are four:, two tall, and two shorter. The first tall ones seemed rather blockish, and sharp, while the other was made of odd, wavy lines. They made a beautiful pair, even though their faces were obscured by darkness. The smaller figures chased each other, and the vibrations of their screaming laughter flickered through you. The image fades away, but not before you catch a scent of something you could only label as ‘Home’. A warm and enveloping smell of sweet bread and cat fur. The scene fades from your vision. You don’t feel in complete control over your movements as you rise blindly, but gracefully. Everything had a soft, glinting feeling, and your head feels stuffed with clouds. The world comes suddenly into view, dust and earth surrounding you. It shines brilliantly into your face. You find you are a rather skinny person, something you don’t seem to have known before. After an examination of your hands and arms, and your scrawny legs, you come to the conclusion that you have a rather nice skin tone, a vibrant bronze-brown, with veins that show with some sort of warm, golden light. “I’m glowing…” The sound comes from you once again, and it sounds rather dumb. Plus, weirdly, it hurt. Using your voice felt like dragonfire being blown down your throat. You resolve not to talk unless you had to, or until you could get something to soothe the burning shock of pain you endured. ‘What is my name?’ you think, as you pick your way out of the crevasse you had found yourself in on surprisingly nimble feet, feeling as if you practically flew out, only the balls of your feet touching the ground. They just barely touched the dusty rocks.


	6. Colorful

Orange is loud and angry but red can be too, but more often to me red is soft and comfort and like an old friend you can go back to over and over

Purple is dreams and clouds and midnight on a beach

Yellow is sunshine and flowers and a beautiful girl with the stars in her eyes and her grin

Blue is quiet and the feeling of holding someone’s hand

Green is being alone but not lonely, surrounded by trees and their immeasurable knowledge and age, the eyes in the forest that guard travelers in their adventures


	7. Four Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on my new BnHA plot bunnies work.

At four years old, Bakugou Katsuki knows what explosions feel like on your skin. They’re sparkling and beautiful and blinding and deafening. They hurt more that he will admit. 

At four years old, Midoriya Izuku knows what devastation feels like in your heart. Its quirk doctor’s voices and mother’s tears and the word “Sorry.” It hurts more than he will admit. 

At four years old, Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku know what loneliness feels like in completely different ways. Its awe in classmate’s eyes and cruel words in their mouths, childlike worship and disgust. Looking into eachother’s eyes hurts more than either of them will admit. 

At four years old, Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku fall apart.


	8. Poetry from the past few days i guess????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ive been one of my poetry kicks larely lmao. Expect more amybe?

Boy,  
With fire in your fists and ice in your bones  
Boy,  
Arent you tired of living alone?

Girl,  
Of light and creation, of matryoshka dolls  
Girl,  
Aren’t you tired of acting like it isnt exhausting?

Boy,   
Call them to you, O leader of revolutions  
Boy,   
Hold them together, the bond of the covenant. 

c.g. | revolutions start with people

 

Kiss me holy  
Under bright moonlight   
And convince me the gods are real. 

And I’ll tell you  
With sinner’s lips  
That I’ll be Persephone  
If you’ll be Hades

 

c.g. | because persephone meant   
“the destroyer”

 

To be able to expel their poison  
Of fear and hate borne cruelty  
Would be my greatest gift

But how am I to do so,  
When I’ve never been taught how?

c.g. | poison

 

With my head tilted back  
Like I was having a religious experience 

And my body  
Arched towards the sun

I finally knew what it was like to love a god. 

c.g. | godly

 

Man, who hath fingers delicate enough to pull me apart  
Thread by thread  
To deconstruct the tapestry of my own life slowly with gentle touch and soft words,  
Unnoticeable until the damage irreversible. 

Woman, with teeth bared to destroy me  
Growls animalistic and hands bloodied   
Her eyes filled with wild glee as I fall in love with the monster within her  
Who would kill me just as much as look into my eyes. 

Opposition of different kinds, both dangerous and beautiful,   
Blinding my caution with strength of body and elegance of words. 

The King and Queen of my Heart,   
Are yet also its primary enemies. 

 

c.g. | love is not always happy


	9. More poetry bc im a fuckin nerd

Become the thundering storm  
With heavy rains and hail   
Beating down upon your enemies   
With no end in sight

Become the wildfire  
Burning through forests and cities   
In naught but a day  
Leaving nothing but ashes and devastation in your wake

Become the blackest of nights  
Suffocating darkness without a star in sight   
The moonlight captured in your hand and fingers  
Waiting to burn. 

Become a force  
Nature untamed  
Uncontrollable by man or beast

 

c.g. | become what they fear

 

Youth paints you in the rose tint of hope  
And the gold light of sunrise  
And I breathe my desires quietly into the coming night  
Where they may remain a secret between only me and the moon. 

 

c.g. | and i fell at your feet

 

A boy untamable  
With fists of fire and ash  
His mouth only knows violence  
And the taste of dust and blood  
And his voice breaks as he cries out  
To a God he long abandoned   
For guidance he will never receive

 

c.g. | the center of destruction

 

Icarus fell to the sea shining   
Glowing in the afternoon sun  
And we dont know  
Whether he was grinning or crying

 

c.g. | last words unknown

 

You’re face is bloodied and your smile only knows war  
Your battle giddy eyes alight my body with the flame of dying suns  
And in the heat of night your voice sounds more like a battle cry   
And I know I was never first before the fight

 

c.g. | war child

 

When the ancient songs trickle from the sky  
In a melody pitch for the holy  
And sinners weep as they are accepted with open arms  
Laughter bubbles from the beaten and broken as they see Lucifer embrace his Father.   
All are welcome here, where beauty is poetry  
And believing sets you free.

 

c.g. | sinners welcome

 

When my words catch my throat   
But they come out anyways in poetry to your beauty   
You'll be certain I love you  
With a passion flame burning in my heart and gentle caresses to your body  
I whisper sweet words and nonsense into your skin   
“There is no one else for me.”

When fear chokes out the words in my mouth  
And they come out as bright blood dripping from between my teeth  
You’ll be certain I hate you  
With the hellfire in my eyes and snake’s venom poisoning my fists  
I scream fury to whatever gods listen pitilessly to my cries  
“I stayed with her last night”

When nothing stops my words to you  
And you finally see my back as I leave  
You’ll be certain you lost something irreplaceable   
With no fire left and the frozen distance between me and you  
And I have nothing left to say  
“I’m sorry”

 

c.g. | plotline

 

When your voice doubles as a war cry  
Thats never quiet in the night, only louder  
And your fingers are stained pink by the blood you’ve spilled   
in your rage  
You’ll understand that you were made for battle  
That Ares dug his claws in you long ago,  
When you were just a child,   
young and furious. 

Screams of fear are music to you  
And the smell of death replaces roses  
Your cackle filters throughout the smoke to the terrified,  
And they cower from your warpath

You were made for death and for blood. 

 

c.g. | born for this

 

I want to be happy  
Screaming out my joy from a rooftop somewhere   
Wild and passionate while I'm surrounded by nothing but a concrete jungle   
My grin sharp and stark in a night lit afire by street lamps and lighter flame  
Something vaguely musical playing in the background of a memory

I want to be peaceful  
Quiet in a house filled wall to wall with green and yellow and pink  
Clothes covered in paint as I smile softly  
Picturesque in morning sunlight  
No music now, only soft scratch of brush against canvas

 

c.g. | future plan (unfin)

 

 

Bloodlust is a red word for a red world  
Red rooms and red buildings  
And red skies  
Red suns and red people  
Burning and bleeding and dying in the heat

Red stained skin and red under nails  
From gouging, scratching, scarring  
Leaving your mark of ill will upon the world  
Cracking, snapping, red covered bones visible through ripped flesh to the sounds of red screams

Night comes and sets upon these red things, and a red moon rises   
And this red place is illuminated in red moonlight  
And these reds are trapped   
forevermore

 

c.g. | bloodlust planet 

 

He smells like sulfur and sage  
Ink dipped hands and feet and horns  
So strong yet so delicate in the light of day  
As it bounces and plays like a child around him  
As he coaxes the rays to conform to his will

His breath smells like burning and bright fall morning  
And you cant imagine how anyone is afraid  
Of this being of light and love and life  
But then the claws scratch deep into your heart

She smells like ozone and the sea  
With fingertips like icicles   
Quiet and powerful, moonlight in the daytime  
Soft curves and black cloth drapery  
And her voice is sweeter than birdsong

Her arctic touch heals the scars he leaves behind  
And her melody reaches past his dark  
Loving her is like magic and prayer   
A fever pitch choir dragging you from the deep  
And into her bright eyes 

 

c.g. | gods are not what they first appear to be, but sometimes they are

 

I hurt, in the mornings  
A weight in my bones, unfamiliar and unwelcome  
And fingers that ache from cold 

My esophagus is open too wide,   
A gaping maw starved for something i do not know  
And cannot describe. 

I do not know how to heal  
This relentless ache in my very bones   
And the acid taste that creeps into my mouth

 

c.g. | morning time


End file.
